The day came where I opened my eyes for the first time. I saw the world through... Different eyes. I didn't see anything akin to color or shapes. I saw a puzzle, waiting to be assembled.
On the night of my first birthday I had already learned about who I was on the inside and had come to terms with the voices that tell me to be who I am and the ones that Make me who I am. I don't remember the first weeks but after my first birthday, everything is clear.
On my second birthday I started to truly wonder what I was and who I was. Simply stating the usual baby terms like GaGa and OoGoo. Never once thinking of the implications that my slowed speech could have on my life.
But the alleged question still remained of what I was. I couldn't ask at that rate because my mental capacity just "Wasn't enough" However I did see the world in color finally. I saw the world as this perfect place full of adventure. How wrong I could be...
On my third birthday I was walking, talking, and stalking. Stalking what one might ask? Well I was stalking crickets in the grass. It was a outdoor birthday, and the cake was incredible. Baked by a man I would soon call Uncle. I remember the look on my mothers face as I said my first sentence. My real full name. Jordan Emery Wilde. I wished my mother a happy birthday on accident. Not even rendering my own in my thought complexed brain. I simply didn't have the "Energy" to run it all.
It was the fourth year. When she finally noticed, she saw the signs and cried. She called the doctor and cried. And I sat there playing with my little toy train that meant the world to me. Not even noticing my mothers incessant sobs. Or my fathers concerned look as he stepped in the door home from work. Still clad in that beautiful navy blue.
It was midway through my fourth year of the journey of life. I was in the car. Driving my little toy train across my lap as we drove to the clinic. Mother was crying and Father was scared. When we finally arrived we were greeted with a concerning sight. The doors had posters of current illnesses. Me completely unaware of the irony of the situation. When we finally went in. It was twenty two minutes and sixteen seconds before they called my mothers name. "Judy Wilde?" And as me and my father sat down playing with my little toy train I started to think about the truth of why we were here. I just couldn't vocalize it. When I finally got to the room they started the tests. Pieces of paper with shapes. Squares, Circles, Triangles, Trapezoids. All these different questions overloaded my brain and all I could think of was that board game sitting in the corner. Gnawing at my obsessive mind that was begging for stimulation. Seeing the beautiful board game I had never seen before. I sadly left hours later after no appeal to the board game crisis. When we got home Mother took the envelope the doctor had given her. She opened it and cried. And she called for my Father. "Nick... you.. need to.. s-see this.."
It was at five years old they knew the extent of it. I was supposed to never walk or talk. Those were miracles in themselves... but as things progressed I knew it was coming to an end. The miracles I mean. One by one my symptoms kept getting worse until my mother begged for a diagnosis. "Hybrid Grade Autism..." was all she got. That night I heard more crying from my mothers room then the night she lost her mom.
At the wonderful year of six is when things started to look up. A promotion for mother helped the family. But it made there be less time for me. I was going to be enrolled in school soon. But I didn't have the thought process for anything other than my now working mother. I sat there studying myself in our living room mirror. Seeing the features and design of my fur. But good things don't last forever...
The first and last major miracle "Or so they thought.." happened at night. I just suddenly knew how to talk. How to process and study. It all came in a dream with that little toy train...